


Mistaken For A Crime

by Rubynye



Category: Star Trek XI
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, M/M, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-16
Updated: 2011-03-16
Packaged: 2017-10-17 00:57:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/171166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While in the Infirmary, Jim gets some advice from his mentor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistaken For A Crime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BrighteyedJill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrighteyedJill/gifts).



> Ever since I wrote "A Star Quaking" and "In the Gleam Of Eyes" (really, since "Undistracted") I've wanted to write about Mirror!Kirk & Mirror!Pike's relationship. Hence, this.

Jim isn't really comfortable, splayed out on his front in an Infirmary biobed, but he's about as close as modern tech can get him. There's agony somewhere off to the side, along the sliced edges of his flesh and between the shards of shattered bone, but the meds have him floating mostly above it as the regens strapped to his body stitch him back together. Better yet, a broad hand strokes soothingly through his hair, strong fingers pushing over his scalp in a steady rhythm. He smiles as much as he can with the busted cheek, the healthy one tucked against the pillow, and could almost drift off to sleep under this petting.

Except, of course, he'd never be so fucking stupid as to fall asleep around Captain Fucking Pike, in the Infirmary or anywhere else, even before the hand currently stroking his hair drove a dagger into his arm. He hums instead under the raspy slide of rough skin, listening to the answering chuckle rumbled above him, and when he's pretty sure he can say something without drooling he says, "Thanks for sending Dr. Puri to check on me, Sir."

Pike lengthens his next stroke to caress Jim's cheek, the light touch tingling through layers of half-healed flesh. "I take it you're feeling better?"

Jim shrugs with his far shoulder, since the near one has an osteoregen on it. "A little down, a little high. Well enough to have learned my lesson."

Pike snorts dubiously, and Jim can't help grinning though his cheek burns with the stretch and the new scar on his chin tries to tug open. "Somehow, Kirk, I doubt that, but I'll be satisfied if next time you find a real reason to defy me." His hand slides down Jim's bare neck and between his vulnerable shoulderblades, and Jim is too habituated to that touch to suppress the answering shiver. "Not just some pretty face."

Jim grits his teeth to keep from saying, 'Can't we drop it?' He sighs gustily, and Pike's hand stills on the back of his neck, the bristle-short hairs there prickling up against Pike's palm. Of course, the bastard's more patient than Jim'll probably ever be, and soon enough he has to give it up. "I stick to my deals, Sir," Jim mutters, remembering Gaila's tear-sheened eyes and the proud lift of her curly head. "Gaila didn't want to blow that nasty old goat." Who really _was_ muttony, no less. A twitch crawls down the back of Jim's neck, but he manages to shove down its following shudder. Officers of the Empire can't be squeamish.

Pike palms Jim's head, rolling it back and forth a little, not quite enough to mash his face into the pillow. "Show respect, son. That 'old goat' is Admiral Nogura, an intimate friend of the Empress herself, and one of the men who taught me the valuable lessons I'm trying to get through your thick skull. Such as, since when is life about what we want?" Jim's got an answer to _that_ , but Pike's hand presses over his mouth and and he knows better than to push at it, even now. "If you step in for every subordinate who whines about getting on their knees," said along with a nearly painless tug on Jim's lower lip, "I don't know if even this generous mouth will be able to handle the amount of dick you'll have to suck and cunt you'll have to lick."

Jim swipes his tongue across Pike's thumbtip, curling it the way he likes, and when he chuckles Jim murmurs, "Oh, no, not _sex_ ," against his fingers to win a full-bore laugh. "Most of my underlings won't be worth it. She's worth it."

"She'd better be, boy." Pike pushes his hand up over Jim's cheek and ear again, nice and rough the way Jim likes, scouring away the feel of memories. "Nogura thought you were a worthwhile substitute, at least. Said he hasn't been so sure in a long time that he's been blown by a future captain."

"Not since the last time you blew him," Jim says, because the adrenaline spike is dizzyingly sweet and it's an even chance Pike'll blame that bit of mouthiness on the pain meds. Pike snarls, but only indulgently, and barely even bounces his hand off Jim's ear before going back to petting him. Jim smiles a little wider and watches the stars fly across the insides of his eyelids.

They're quiet for awhile, broken only by medical beeps and boops, as Jim drifts under Pike's stroking hand, breathing against the narcotic tug of sleep. He's just about to start playing the odds with himself that the lecture's over when Pike says in a deep rumble, almost more felt than heard, "Jim, not everyone's going to find it cute." The sound of his first name in Pike's voice raises prickles all over Jim's skin and pushes his eye open; Pike's eyebrows are relaxed and his mouth isn't tight, and he's looking down at Jim as if he thinks Jim's actually worth something, which doesn't happen often. "So you have a deal with the Orion girl. Protect her from your classmates if you like -- I've stashed her in my quarters until you get out of here." Jim curls his lip, but Pike's serious calm doesn't shift. "But when a superior officer demands access to something of yours, you may want to consider obeying orders."

Pike's right, of course, which is why Jim doesn't actually harbor any plans of killing him aside of the usual contingencies, but he won't entertain Pike half as much if he just gives in and agrees. Besides, Jim hasn't seen him fuck any girl cadets, just boys and grown women, so he shoves his good hand under his cheek to angle his face up, widens his eyes to simulate innocence and says, "Are you speaking on your own behalf, Sir? Because you could just talk to her. I think she likes you."

Pike smirks and backhands him lightly, hardly enough to make his face sting. "Thank you for the completely superfluous permission, Kirk," he says dryly. "How could you stop me, anyway?"

"Is that a real question?" Jim bluffs, because he actually has no idea. He needs to learn how to strategize even when this banged up and drugged up. He's working on it. Pike gives him a Lifted Eyebrow of No Shit, Son, and Jim takes a dramatic deep breath, drawing out the moment until Pike's expression starts to actually bend towards human curiosity, then announces, "Without advance warning."

Pike laughs for a long time, a dry crackly sound that warms Jim's vestigial heart, and pats Jim's cheek as he stands up. He leans over and kisses Jim, lightly, even undemandingly, and Jim kisses back as best he can from the awkward angle. "Don't make me repeat this lesson, boy," Pike murmurs, his lips brushing Jim's ear. "You're prettier when you're whole. Now get some sleep and finish healing up."

"Aye, aye, Sir," Jim mumbles, saluting from his prone position. Pike gives him an actually non-frosty smile and turns on his heel, and as soon as Jim hears the metallic click of the door lock engaging, he shuts his eyes and follows his mentor's orders.


End file.
